


Living of Love

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drama, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation, Post-War, Public Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10809291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron and Hermione deal with their changing relationship after the war. Harry deals with the missing pieces of his own life.





	Living of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** There's a sequel called "The Perfect Space" that might interest you.

_For just one chance to find_

_Love was someone that you loved to find_

_For just the sense to try_

_To walk ahead and leave the pain behind_

 

 He destroyed the final horcruxes.

He avenged his loved ones.

He killed Voldemort.

He survived.

 

After all of that, Harry just couldn't sleep. He wasn't afraid, he wasn't plagued with any nightmares, and he certainly didn't have a price on his head anymore. Well, not as big a price he should say. But even after all of that, even after the weight of wizarding world was lifted off of his shoulders with one 'expelliarmus', he was still restless.

He felt guilty that he wasn't sadder about Ginny. She had come to him and made more sense than any person their age ever should about relationships before finally confiding that she was in love with Neville. There was barely a sting in Harry's chest when it was all said and done, and that thought alone seemed to keep him hyper aware of his own psyche. It was as if with the spectre of Voldemort and war dissipating from his life, all of the other things inside of his head took precedence.

Harry banged his head against one of the posts on the bed, pulling back suddenly realizing that he might wake up the others in the room. He opened the curtains and glanced around furtively, only to find that the room was completely empty. No Neville, but after his last conversation, it was plain to know where he went. No Ron and Hermione, but Harry assumed that must have fallen asleep somewhere together. He knew they would never be away from each other…not after everything. But where were Dean and Seamus? Harry decided that being alone wasn't very appealing at the moment, so he slipped out of the bed, put on his invisibility cloak, and made his way onto the grounds.

The acrid smell of burning flesh, dust, and lingering curses still hung in the misty air of late evening. Harry shuddered, desperate for something warm and comforting to cling to. He didn't have that though. The closest he came to even having some sense of place was near Ron and Hermione, ensconced by the Weasleys, or wandering the walls of Hogwarts. However, Ron and Hermione were likely comforting each other, the Weasleys were all in mourning, and Hogwarts lay strewn with bodies and destroyed. The pain and loneliness ripped through Harry like a knife. 

He looked over the grounds from the high vantage point near the castle and found that the grassy areas surrounding the lake and the border of the forest were relatively untouched. He quickly made his way there, hoping for a safe and familiar feeling. When he heard a groan followed by murmured voices, Harry crouched lower under his cloak and drew his wand. 

"Ye've only just been back home. Ye need to rest ," came Seamus Finnegan's familiar clipped Irish voice.

"Mmmmm," murmured a voice in response. Suddenly, Seamus let out another shuddering moan. 

When Harry finally found his way to the voices, he very nearly gave himself away with a startled gasp. Seamus and Dean were locked in a tight embrace, shirtless, with Dean's lips currently running up Seamus' pale chest. Harry gripped a nearby tree to keep from falling over. The sight of them didn't disgust him, didn't shock him, nor did it even make him want to run away. Instead, he was enthralled, filled with an instant desire, and also a very poignant loneliness. 

Seamus whimpered again and tried to push Dean off. Dean pulled back then, his sharp eyes widening and his already tall body taking itself to full height and towering over Seamus' relatively small form. Dean's eyes were watering as he took Seamus' hand and pressed their entwined fists against Seamus' chest. Dean pulled them together, never moving their hands, until their foreheads rested against each other. 

"Shay," Dean said, his voice painful and pleading to the point where Harry had to close his eyes for a second at the gravity of it. "This…" he said, bringing their hands up to his lips.”This is the only home I know. The only place I ever want to be. I need you now."

Seamus took a deep breath and pressed his lips against Dean's hard. Dean's long, dark fingers threaded in Seamus' sandy hair, their bodies practically melting together. It was then that Harry had to walk away. If he didn’t, the hole in his heart would threaten to engulf him.

Harry walked toward some benches he knew were nestled at the trailhead to the Forbidden Forest, just hidden enough that he wouldn't be bothered. However, as he approached his chosen spot, he heard more voices. These didn’t sound nearly so hopeful, but were filled with sniffles and deep voices cracking and sobbing. Harry didn't know if he could take much more grief without completely succumbing to it himself. 

This time, it was Ron and Hermione, only they were simply grieving. In between the small sobs and encouraging whispers, they were kissing like it was their only way of breathing. They lay on a stone bench, with Ron hovering over her, but the bench appeared to have been expanded to accommodate them. Ron had his hand up Hermione's shirt, and Harry could see them resting over the swell of her breasts. Hermione's hands were running up and down Ron's bare back, her own body trembling and her fingers shaking slightly. Both of their faces were streaked with tears.

"Need you so badly, Ron," Hermione moaned, her lips dancing along his neck. 

"Hermione, you feel so good," He moaned back, even as his back shook with tears. "I almost lost you…so many times out there…it was so close. It was too close."

"Never again. Never again," Hermione whispered, thrusting her clothed hips up to meet his. Ron groaned loudly, echoing her motions until they were rocking against each other. His hand twisting slightly and she cried out, arching her back to meet his touch. They were both moaning desperately, their movements so frantic that Harry worried they were stuck in another world, a panicked one where the war hadn't ended. 

When Hermione reached down and palmed Ron's obvious erection through his jeans, Harry felt his own cock twitch. He wanted to be touched so bad. It had been nearly a year since he even stirred down there. There was too much to be done, too much to worry over, and too much at stake. He just turned into a shell, bent on accomplishing his task and keeping his loved ones alive…nothing more. Just seeing his best friends throwing their heads back and groaning with need was enough to wake up so much in him that the loneliness was able to bore a bigger chasm in his chest. 

Before the urge to reach down and touch himself became too much, Harry walked away, giving his best friends the privacy they deserved. When he had made it back into the lonely darkness, he closed his eyes and wrapped his hands around his cock. It had been so long, he had been through so much and even in the haze of the post battle, and his desire burned him like fire was whipping around his skin. He closed his eyes, picturing himself surrounded by the heady moans and welcoming arms of Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus. The moment they had reached their hands out to touch him, he came. 

His orgasm shook his body and brought him to his knees. Near his impromptu resting place lay three stones from the walls of the castle. He had the composure to spell himself clean before his own sobs were taking over. His emotions were indecipherable, all of them moving together in one big torrent of confusion that had made him weak. He bit his lip and fought the urge to collapse right there in the leaves.

Suddenly, Harry saw a flicker of light to his right. He saw the large, hairy shadow of Hagrid move across a window of his hut and stretch out into the darkness of the late evening. Harry could feel a sense of ease come over him. He could find home, he could find warmth, and he could find rest with Hagrid. He smiled slightly, the war in his chest quieting a little as he walked toward the familiar stone hut. 

When Hagrid greeted Harry with a warm and crushing embrace, Harry sighed. 

"What are ye doin’ here Harry?" Hagrid asked, concerned.

"Can I sleep here? I just…I can't…" Harry said, suddenly too weak to even articulate his needs.

"Say no more, son," Hagrid said softly, gesturing toward the overly large sofa. Harry sat down and took off his glasses. He heard a thump and saw a pillow was now laid at one end of the couch. He automatically leaned onto it, loving the smell of food, smoke, and animals that seeped through the linen.

As his eyelids closed heavily and tight and his body slipped away in exhaustion, Harry felt a blanket engulf him in warmth and a firm hand on his shoulder. 

He was safe, he was warm, and he was home.

 

_If the days aren’t easy and the nights are rough_

_When they ask you what you’re thinking of_

_Say love, say for me love_

_Say love, say for me love_

 

 Ron's head was spinning, and his mind was slowly slipping from him. Here they were, not mere hours after Voldemort had been killed, and he and Hermione were snogging like mad on a bench on the school grounds. Her hand was currently running up and down his throbbing cock, and Ron thought he was going to explode as his body shook. He was overwhelmed to say the least. There were still tears streaking down both of their faces, and everything felt desperate and amazing.

"Hermione…I…Gods…I" Ron couldn't find the words. Instead, he fumbled at the clasp of her jeans and managed to slip them over her hips. He could feel his hands trembling wildly even as he ran his fingers up and down the soft flesh of her thighs. 

"Yes, Ron…please," Hermione moaned, her back arching. Ron could feel the loud moan ripping from his throat. 

He wanted to ask her if it was okay, he wanted to make sure they weren't going too fast, but he just couldn't find words. After everything, the trial by fire they had burned through in the past year, he just needed. It was as simple as that. She was offering respite from the storm raging in the back of his mind. 

He ran his hands in between her legs and over the soft cotton of her underwear. He whispered her name as he felt the dampness seeping through. Just knowing that she wanted him, after everything they'd been through and everything they were still facing had cleared Ron's head and made him singularly focused and thrilled in the same breath. He pushed the fabric to the side and ran his fingers between the folds of her flesh. 

"Oh god," he murmured.

"Nnnnnn," Hermione said, thrusting her hips up to his touch. He felt a tingle rush through him as she dug her nails into his forearms. 

"Tell me what to do, Hermione. I don't…I've never…" Ron said, compelled to kiss her in between his stumbling words.

"I don't know what I'm doing either," Hermione whispered, bringing her hand to the top of his shaft and running her thumb over the head. Ron was in danger of losing his composure and collapsing on her. 

"You feel amazing, but I need you to…I want to…" Ron moaned, moving his fingers over her slick skin again. Reluctantly and with more will than he ever thought possible, Ron moved her hand. She looked up at him curiously. "Tell me what you want," he whispered in her ear, kissing down her neck. He let his fingers run over her center as she bucked up against them. 

"Ron. In me," Hermione moaned, bringing her lips to him. He pressed a finger into her slick heat, swallowing her echoing moan. He pumped it in and out until she requested more. Then, he inserted a second finger inside of her.

"You feel amazing," Ron whispered, feeling like he could come just from touching her.

"Curl your fingers up and…" Hermione started, but Ron had already followed her advice and she cried out his name in abandon.

She leaned up and bit at his lower lip until she could reach him enough to thrust her tongue inside of his mouth. When he turned his wrist slightly and his thumb brushes against the top of her sex, she immediately groaned and clenched on his arms more tightly. He pulled back and looked down at her only to find her eyes closed, her lips parted, and her face flushed even in the dimming light. He chanced another movement over that spot and she sparked again. Once he began thrusting in and out with his fingers and keeping his thumb grazing along her sensitive area, she began to tremble and whimper his name. 

"Ron, I…." Hermione said. "Oh my god!" 

He felt her body clench around his fingers, and she seemed to sit up involuntarily at his touch. As she repeated his name and trembled under him, Ron couldn't hold back. He came as he watched her come undone and felt her body relent to him. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

"Wow, Hermione," he said, pulling his hand away and gently replacing her underwear, which caused her to twitch again. 

"Ron," she said, turning her head slowly to him and opening her eyes. Her gaze was soft and her cheeks were flushed. "Did you?"

"Ummm…yeah," Ron answered, blushing. "You're just so beautiful, that was…I mean wow, Hermione!"

"Indeed," Hermione said, flicking her wand and causing the tingle of a cleaning spell to go over his sensitive areas.

"Hermione, I…"

"Ron, I…."

They were talking at the same time, staring at each other openly. He was still leaning over her, and he brought his had up to run his hand through her mess of curly hair. His fingers brushed the small scar on her neck and he could feel his breath catching in his throat.

"Forever, Hermione…" He whispered, kissing the white tissue on her neck.

"Always," Hermione whispered, running her hand through his hair.

They stayed there for a moment, letting the tumults inside of them still before making their way back to the castle for rest. The next day seemed just a little less daunting when Ron was holding tightly to Hermione's hand.

 

((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

(Five months later)

"Bloody Wankers!" came a shriek from the kitchen. Still primed for the unexpected, both Harry and Ron leapt from their beds with their wands drawn immediately, only to share a look of relief when they realized where they were at. 

"I'm not going to stand for it!" Ron's mother screeched, followed by an explosion and a resounding crash. Ron and Harry exchanged looks before barreling down the stairs of The Burrow. 

When Ron got to the kitchen, he saw his mum with her wand drawn, the kitchen window in shards, and three harried looking people running across the front lawn. She was shooting curse after curse at them, griping and murmuring under her breath.

"Mum?" Ron said cautiously, his back pressed against the wall so as to avoid whatever was causing her wrath.

"Those bloody journalists! They found a hole in the wards!" Molly shouted, casting another spell at them to get them off of her lawn. They must have seen Harry through the windows, because they had attempted to come back and were currently craning their necks for a glimpse or a shot.

Harry had lain incredibly low since the end of the war. He had every intention of joining the aurors, but first he wanted to relax, to fix up Grimmauld place, and to spend some time with Teddy. Ron couldn't blame him, but also couldn’t help but feel like Harry seemed a little lonely and aimless. Ron himself was working at the Wheezes, helping George get back on his feet and making quite a handsome chunk of galleons in the process. He wrote Hermione at Hogwarts on occasion, but he was shite at letters and missed her terribly. 

At least she was safe. 

Ron and Harry moved to assist his mother in ridding the field of vermin. "No, Harry," Molly said, raising her hand behind her. "Let's not give them any more fodder. Why don't you floo Bill and get him over here to repair the hole?"

Harry immediately went into the living room as Ron cast expelling charms on the nearest bloke with a camera in his hand. He found their presence to be annoying of course, but getting rid of them was recreational. He always loved trying out his curse work on the leeches, enjoying the shocked looks on their faces as they were thrown out on their bums. Sure, it meant Ron's family was slandered as violent and arrogant in victory in The Prophet, but it was worth it to watch those buggers squirm. 

Once the journalists were gone and Bill had arrived, his brother immediately began to work on repairing the wards. "It's going to take a couple of days, mates," Bill said, regretful.

Suddenly, Ron had a stroke of genius. Hogwarts' first Hogsmeade visit was coming up, and Ron could drop the seed in his mother's ear of he and Harry perhaps taking a room until the journalists died down. No one would know Harry was there, as Old Aberforth could definitely keep a secret for them. It was the perfect plan really. However, Ron had to swallow a lump in his throat at the thought of getting his own room, and spending time alone with Hermione in said room. 

"Why don't Harry and I stay at Hogsmeade for the night, above Abe's pub?" Ron said, willing his voice not to squeak with nerves. He met his mother's eyes with what he hoped was the picture of calmness. She eyed him suspiciously, and tried to keep steady under her scrutiny. Finally, her shoulders seemed to lose some tension.

"I'll owl Aberforth and let him know to up his wards," Molly said, turning around and heading for the floo.

"It'll be nice to get away, maybe go up and visit the school," Harry said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He got a devious smirk on his face. "Isn't this a Hogsmeade weekend too? If I remember correctly, it's the first one of the year. I wonder if Hermione will feel suddenly tired and need to rest in our room."

Ron punched Harry in the arm, but it did nothing to help his blush. They turned and walked back upstairs. Aberforth said that if they wished, they may remain there for two nights under his wards, granted they could pay him for room and board. Ron thought that was brilliant, because then he could see Hermione first thing the next morning. When their luggage was banished to the Hogshead, Harry immediately kneeled in front of the floo.

"I just need to tell Andromeda where I'll be, in case she needs me," Harry said, slightly nervous. Teddy Lupin had become his life, and Harry was at Andromeda Tonks' house nearly every day to play with him, babysit him, and even take him out to secluded places where the press wouldn’t hound them. Ron thought Harry had been a bit single minded, but didn't fault him much. After everything Harry had been through, he deserved a slightly more narrowed focus.

_Your heart says not again_

_What kind of mess have you got me in_

_But when the feelings there_

_It can lift you up and take you anywhere_

 

The instances when Ron was pulled away from her played over in haphazard order as she slept. There was his blood, flowing in endless waves out of his shoulder and over his hands. She waited, pacing for a seemingly endless stretch of time for him to return from the mission to retrieve Harry. She cried in the dusty old chair of their tent at the fact that he would never come back to her. And she watched him die when he begged them to take her instead.

Hermione woke up every morning knowing that none of this happened, that it all turned out alright. But that didn’t stop her from shaking, from letting a few tears leak out of her tired eyes, and from reaching her hand to Ron's short, messy letters. She walked to the mirror, as she did every time she woke, and looked carefully at herself to make sure she was whole and to reassure herself that everything would be okay.

She needed Ron to cement that notion, and until she could drown herself again in his arms, she dealt with the uncertainty like rising water around her entire existence. Her logical mind told her that she was being irrational, but after living so long with the prospect of death on a daily basis, her entire being remained keyed up and ready for the worst. The dark circles under her eyes stood out as a stark reminder of her own mental state. 

Hermione was just about to tackle her hair when a tiny little owl flitted through the open window in between her and Ginny's bed and landed on her shoulder. She smiled at pig, curious as to why he was there. Usually Ron didn’t write unless it was in response to something she had written, and his letters were never long or very detailed anyway. Sighing at the thought, Hermione stroked Pig's head lightly before taking the little scroll on his leg. She read the messy writing carefully.

"Ginny!" Hermione practically squealed, an irrepressible grin splitting her face. Ginny came out of the washroom with her hair in a towel and her robes already on. 

"Ron and Harry are in Hogsmeade right now! They are going to meet us at the gate tomorrow!" Hermione said, Pig hooting and flying around in her head in a perfect imitation of her heart in that moment.

"Oh that will be wonderful! I'll have to tell Nev to help round up everyone for some drinks at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow," Ginny said, with happiness but much less excitement as she began to comb through her tangled hair. 

"Did you say Ron and Harry will be at Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Parvati Patil said, her smile excited and her eyes wide. Hermione just nodded, puzzled at why Parvati would appear so thrilled. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Lavender leaning over her dressing table, applying makeup and perfecting her hair. Even with the scar across her face, she was still impossibly beautiful, and Hermione could feel a lump rise in her throat. Her excitement was draining rapidly as Lavender's generous bosom popped out over her far too tight uniform. Hermione looked back to her tired eyes and average build and sighed.

The summer had been incredible. She and Ron went to Australia together to find her parents and spent a few weeks basking in each other without the threat of death and war hanging over their heads. After returning to England, they still spent many of their days together, exploring bodies and figuring out exactly what made the other tick. There was no rush, so they hadn't been fully "intimate" -as Hermione's mother would call it- yet. Hermione returned to Hogwarts excited to be learning again, and Ron took up the arduous task of helping George run the shop in the stark and chilling absence of Fred. 

However, soon after she started school, it began to hit Hermione that things may begin to change in a bad way. Without the threats, without the desperate need and fear fueling them, would it all burn away? Would Ron lose interest? Would she become the plain, homely girl she knew she was in his eyes when they weren't fighting for their lives? Her fears were confirmed in his short letters. They hadn't seen each other in over a month, and she barely heard anything from him in those few weeks. 

She sighed at her boring reflection and gathered her shower supplies. She stole one more glance at Lavender, and with a heavy heart, resigned herself to losing him as soon as he laid eyes on her again. It was the distance that kept him hanging on, but with the world in front of him, how could he possibly want to be with her?

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Hermione spent more time than usual in the library, having difficulty finding the words for her latest charms essay. She couldn't eat, her stomach was tied in knots at what she knew was inevitable heartbreak. Ginny kept shooting her worried glances, but thankfully kept her thoughts to herself. Hermione didn’t spend any time in the common room that evening, deciding to go to bed early and stare up at the ceiling instead of watching Neville fall over himself worshipping Ginny.

Hermione trudged up the stairs and into the girls’ dormitory. It was a Friday night, so no one was there. She pulled out her shower kit and her bath robe. With an afterthought, she picked up the beauty pack her mother gave her. She thought that perhaps a little feminine indulgence would make her feel better. She let her hair fall, fully intent on washing it in the hopes that it would miraculously do something amazing in time for Ron's visit. 

She made her way to the Prefects bathroom with her knapsack, starting to look forward to some relaxation. After letting herself in and taking her clothing off, she filled up the giant bath with warm water and the special bubble bath her mother had given her. She took a deep breath of the sweet, earthy smell, smiling that her mother always knew exactly what she liked. It had been an immense relief to have her mother's forgiveness for her necessary actions, and it made the inviting smell wafting from the bath even more comforting. She slowly moved in, getting used to the steaming water as her body submerged.

After a surprisingly worry free hour, Hermione stepped out of the small pool feeling refreshed. She reached into the pack her mom sent her and pulled out the cocoa butter lotion, rubbing up and down her body. Her skin was always very soft, but this way, maybe Ron would want to touch her. Hermione had small hopes that she might keep him close, keep him from fading away. When she applied the face cream, she actually felt a small smile form at the tingle.

All of the positive notions faded when she toweled off her hair and the steam began to fade. Staring back at her from the full length mirror was the most perfectly average woman in all of England. The only thing that stood out to Hermione was the bags under her eyes and her unruly hair, which was going in all directions now that it was dry. She saw her lips quiver in her reflection and quickly set about cleaning up her mess before she caught herself being weak. She left the prefects bathroom before her emotions could get the better of her.

Hermione sat at her dressing table across from her bed cataloguing her meager stash of makeup. There was some powder, blush, and lip gloss. She wondered if maybe her powder would make the dark circles under her eyes look less pronounced. She took her grandmother's antique brush to her hair, trying her best not to rip her skin off with the tangled mass. Finally, she gave up and cast a charm that would subdue the mess slightly. Running a comb through her charmed hair, she felt the tears that had threatened her earlier begin to fall. She put a hand over Ron's letter, wadded it up, and tossed it in the bin. 

She climbed into bed that night hopeless, and dreamed of the past year in vivid and frightening detail.

 

_But the gravel beneath you and the limbs above_

_If anybody asks you where you’re coming from_

_Say love, say for me love_

 

 

Ron woke up at eight am. He didn't even bother to hit snooze on the charmed clock in the corner. He wrote a note telling Harry to pick up Hermione at the gates and tried hard not to wake him as he got ready. He pulled his deluminator and a note out of his pocket, studying each one closely. He took a deep breath and made his way to the north of the small village. When he arrived at his destination, a small bell chimed indicating his presence, and a tall, beautiful woman greeted him.

"Mr. Weasley, I presume?" She said, smiling elegantly at him. Ron swallowed thickly for a moment before nodding. "Okay, let's show me what the illustrious Weasley Wizard Wheezes has come up with now."

"Um, well….We've figured out a way to encase pure light in a glass-like charm that can last forever. It's unbreakable and the light never fades. It's a combination of stasis charms, glass transfiguration using unbreakable materials, and even a little summoning. I'm not at liberty to really explain the rest," Ron said shyly. He blushed fiercely when the woman gazed at him in awe over her thin glasses.

"Why don't you show me how it's done, and I'll consider buying some from your brother," She said softly, her body almost touching Ron's.

"Yes, well…about that. I was sort of wondering if I could give you a charmed...something and you could set it for me. I can pay you, of course, but I figured…you know…while I'm here…" Ron said, stumbling over his words at her nearness.

"Oh of course! Are you going to make it here?" She asked, pressing her long, pale fingers together and looking mildly excited.

"No. It's…ummm…well the light is special and it only happens in certain ways," Ron said, looking down shyly. He pulled out a small black velvet pouch and uncinched the opening. He reached for the small, smooth orb and let it rest in his palm for the jeweler to see.

The small glass piece felt cool in his hands. There was a subtle energy in it that felt like home…felt like himself. He knew the essence of his magic was encased in that little blue bit. The light shone from it, lighting up the small shadows of the autumn day cast threw the shop's large windows. Ron couldn't help the reflex to curl his fingers over it and pull it closely to him. 

After George and Lee had come up with the combination of spells necessary to capture light inside of glass in a permanent way, Ron's mind immediately went to his own deluminator. He remembered when the blue light first appeared in front of him, and in his chest. It was the most beautiful, most comforting, and most alluring thing he had ever seen. It had entranced him and made him feel like everything was okay. Hermione's voice had come to him through that light. She had called out to him during his darkest moment, and he could feel it every time he looked at the silver tube.

With that in mind, Ron had waited for her to say his name, thinking of how much he needed and missed her. He kept the deluminator pressed against his heart, anxious to capture the light with George's new spell. Finally, after only a few hours of waiting, her voice came through. He captured a small piece of the hovering heart-light and permanently encased it. 

Ron stood nervously in the elegant Hogsmeade jewel shop as the beautiful woman tapped her chin.

"White Gold," she murmured, "With a leaf detail on the setting."

"Yeah?" Ron said, hope rising in his chest.

"Yes. I have the perfect piece. It will but a moment to set. 20 galleons should cover it," She said, smiling. 

Ron was relieved; he had brought 30 with him, along with the money needed for the room that he split with Harry. As he handed the witch the little jewel and his money, he began to feel the familiar tingle of excitement in his toes. He had never been happier to be working for George. Having spending money for the first time in his life certainly held advantages.

The woman placed it in a velvet box, changing the color to match the necklace, and Ron was out of the shop just as the first Hogwarts students were flowing into the village. Ron scanned the crowd for Harry and Hermione, schooling his features so that Hermione didn't suspect he had a surprise for her. When he saw her familiar head in the gaggle of students, he immediately began running toward her. 

When he saw her, she looked at him with hurt and resignation on her face. He nearly pulled back from her, unsure of what to make of the look in her eyes. It seemed as though she were preparing herself to be hit….and she looked at him like he was going to strike her at any moment. Ron reached out slowly and put some hair behind her ear, fighting the urge to grab her and kiss her. Something was obviously wrong. 

"Ron," She said tersely, even as her eyes watered and her shoulders tensed.

"What's wrong, Hermione? You look tired," Ron said, letting his hand rest on her arm. She looked up at him in desperation, her fingers pressing the skin under her eyes. She let out a choked sob and apparated away on the spot. 

Ron spun around, looking for her to land somewhere near to him and say it was all a joke. Sure, Hermione wasn't one to really joke, but he had no idea why else she would just disappear like that. When it was clear that she wasn't going to come out and tease him, Ron turned to Harry for an explanation.

"I don't know, mate. She seemed really down when we were walking up here. She didn't speak much. She didn't look very happy to see me, either," Harry shrugged. There was a little worry flitting over his vision. 

"Did Hermione just disappear?" Ginny asked from somewhere behind him.

"I think so. Bloody fuck if I know why though!" Ron said, throwing up his hands and plopping down on a nearby rock.

"Well, when I came up to the dorm to get a book for Neville, she was sitting in her bed underneath a pile of beauty products and sobbing," Ginny said. "But when I made a move to comfort her, she heard the floor creak and instantly imperturbed her bed. I couldn’t get to her at all. She had nightmares too…Sometimes I have to wake her up," Ginny said, frowning. 

"Blimey," Ron said, gripping his hair in frustration. "How am I supposed to find her now?"

"Maybe she doesn’t want to be found," Harry suggested quietly.

"Well I'm going to look for her anyway," Ron said, getting up and walking toward the worn path that led back to the castle.

"Ron! Here!" Harry said, tossing him the Marauder's Map. Ron smiled and immediately activated it. 

Hermione's tiny feet were still in the hallway of the western wing. It was the one wing of the school that had yet to be repaired, and it was a dangerous place for anyone to go walking about. Ron groaned in frustration and apparated to the gates so that he could run up through the grounds and into the castle. He was going to find her and make whatever he did right. They may have had all the time in the world, but he wasn’t going to spend it alone while she cried her eyes out somewhere. Ron had known for a long time that she was his future, and he wasn't going to let her hide herself away from him anymore. 

He climbed the crumbling staircase and stepped over rubble until he found her huddled behind a large, fallen chunk of wall. Her back was to him and her shoulders shook lightly. He didn't know what to say to her…he never really could find his words when it came to Hermione…So he just walked slowly up to her turned back. She hadn't heard him, or if she had, she didn’t acknowledge that he was there. 

He pulled the delicate necklace from its small velvet box and placed it on her neck, biting his lip in concentration before finally getting the clasp in place. She sucked in a breath as his hands rested on her shoulders. She lifted her hand to the little jewel handing against her sternum and sighed. Her body noticeably relaxed, but her sniffles continued. 

He stood there quietly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms, knowing that if he said something, he was sure to muck it up.

"It feels…I don't know. Kind of warm…a little, ummm, tingly. What's in it?" Hermione said, her head still bent and her back to him.

"It's, well…See George and Lee figured out a way to take light and encase it in some glass to shine permanently. They spent weeks figuring out the best charm to preserve it and keep the glass from breaking and keep the light from dying out and to keep the entire thing contained and looking-"

"Ron. What is the light inside from?" She said, lifting it up between her thumb and forefinger and looking at it more closely. "It's so beautiful," she whispered, pressing the orb to her lips. The act sent chills down Ron's spine. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his deluminator. To his surprise, the blue light was peeking through the crack of the cap. He moved it against Hermione's jewel and both glowed more brightly. She gasped, wrapping her hand around his and pulling them both against her chest. 

"Ron…why…" She began, her words fading in her throat. Ron turned her face up gently to look at him.

"Because I love you, I wanted to give you something, but I know better than to get you some basic little bauble. Then the idea just came to me…to give you a gift literally from the heart. Well, as literally as you can get without bleeding." Ron said, never taking his eyes off of her.

Her mouth twitched a little at the corner, and she looked down to finger her necklace again. She held it against her lips and sighed.

"I can almost feel you," She whispered.

"Good…now I don't have to be so far away from you," He said. He took a chance and kissed her lips gently. When she didn't pull back, he deepened the kiss, placing his hand on her lower back and pulling her closely to him.

"Hermione, what is all this about?" Ron said, searching her eyes for any hints.

 

"I…it's nothing. I'm being ridiculous and it got the best of me," Hermione said, laughing lightly and waving her hand in a nonchalant gesture. 

"Okay. Well, do you want to go back to Hogsmeade, or stick around here?" Ron said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn't want to push her. If she didn't want to talk about whatever upset her, he wasn't going to make her. 

_Say yes we live uncertainty_

_And disappointments have to be_

_And every day we might be facing more_

_There’s only one thing here worth hoping for_

Harry watched with slight amusement as Ron poured over the Marauder’s Map for a moment before apparating away with a confused, helpless look on his face.  He turned to Ginny and she grinned openly back at him. 

“Man, I used to think the constant arguments were annoying, but I certainly missed the entertainment value,” Ginny said, shaking her head slightly.

“There wasn’t much of that while we were on the run,” Harry said, remembering the one fight they had as more heart wrenching than irritating. Ginny turned to look at him sharply, a slight sting in her eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t…that I wouldn’t wait for you,” Ginny whispered, bravely maintaining her eye contact with him.

“It’s okay, Ginny. I’m being honest when I say that,” Harry said, putting a hand on her back.

“Hey, listen, since Ron wanted me to be scarce and leave the room free,” Harry started.

“Ugh! Spare me,” She said, making retching noises.

“Ha! Well, anyway, did you want to get some drinks at The Three Broomsticks?” He said, still grinning earnestly.

“Oh…ummm,” She started, her face beginning to blush.

“Just as friends, of course!” Harry added hastily

“Oh of course,” Ginny answered. “I’d love to. It’s just that Neville is due back from the greenhouses soon, and we wanted to spend some alone time together.” Her face was mimicking Ron’s trademark blush. 

“Okay. Well can you two do me a favor? None of the press knows I’m here, but if you happen to see someone, just send me a patronus,” Harry said as he walked away. She nodded and waved.

Harry sauntered down the well-worn path that led from Hogsmeade back to Hogwarts.  He was utterly lonely and the thought disturbed him beyond anything else that crossed his mind. He had spent the months after the war doting on Teddy and rebuilding Grimmauld Place. He even discussed joining the aurors with Kingsley (the interim Minister of Magic), but Kingsley had wanted Harry to rest a few more months. Harry could see the wisdom in that decision, but he was restless.

Without a mission, without the ever present specter of death and fear, Harry had turned his reflections inward. What he found was unsettling. Even in the warm entanglement of the Weasley’s, he still felt detached and without a purpose.  He needed a project, something to distract his mind.

Just then, Harry heard a cry coming from the forbidden forest at the edge of the grounds. It was a faint and distant whimper, but he was certain he heard something. As the cries and groans became louder, Harry ran faster and faster. His muscles screamed in exertion, but he only paused to track the faint sounds. When he saw a flash of white skin in the distance under a large elm tree, he drew his wand and slowed his steps.

There was a wizard lying in a bloody heap of robes on the leaf-strewn ground. His hair was carelessly shaven, leaving bald patches interspersed with spikes of blonde. The exposed arms of the man showed bruises and slashes and swelled and gushed with every small movement. He let out another moan and a small, soft cry. 

“Hello?” Harry whispered, wand still drawn.

Two cold, gray eyes captured his and Harry gasped. Even with the bruising and broken bones, Harry could recognize that face anywhere. Draco Malfoy’s refined features were staring back at him through a cloud of pain.

“Fuck! “ Harry yelled, dropping to his knees. “Fuck, Malfoy!”

“Help,” He whispered, his throat gurgling.

“I’m shite at healing spells. I’m going to take you to Hagrid’s, maybe he can get Madame Pomfrey,” Harry said, casting a lightening charm on Malfoy and lifting him easily into his arms.

“Please! Don’t let them get me!” Draco said, his eyes unfocused and panicked. 

“I won’t,” Harry whispered; fear blooming in his own chest.

Draco put his good arm around Harry’s neck, letting his other one fall slack at his side.  “Why is it always you, Potter?” he whispered before his eyes closed and his head lolled back. 

 

 

 

  _With Lucifer beneath you and God above If either one of them asks you what your living of_

_Say Love, Say for me Love_

 

They decided to walk among the rubble for a little longer, and Hermione's small feet faltered over the fallen pieces of castle wall. Ron put his hand on the small of her back every once in a while. But other than that, both of his hands stayed firmly implanted in his pocket. Hermione bit her lip to keep from begging him to touch her…and to keep from crying.

She knew, rationally, that she was not thinking straight. Short letters and lack of physical contact didn't necessarily mean he didn't love her. She also knew that she was being a swotty little girl by letting her insecurities cloud her day with Ron. However, sometimes even the most rational women needed reassurance for irrational reasoning. After five more minutes of silence, she felt like she was going to burst. 

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly stumbled over a piece of rock and landed on her knees in the gravel strewn hall. She cried out, tears springing from her eyes as she brought her knees up and rolled up the legs of her torn jeans. Ron's warm hands wrapped around her calves as he kneeled down in front of her. He scrutinized her leg for a moment before lifting his wand. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and after a quick 'terego' and 'aguamenti', it was sufficiently wet, cool, and pressed against her injured knees.

"I just want to clean it up a bit before we heal it," Ron whispered. Hermione hissed as he ran the cloth over her cuts. 

"Sorry," he murmured. "Episkey."

The cuts on her leg sealed together and the pain dulled. Ron ran his hands over her knees, blowing on the skin as he did so, and sending chills up her body. She was waiting for him to help her up, but he just sat there, staring at her intently.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or I am to follow you about all day in silence while you work it out? Because if so, we might as well go to Hogsmeade so I can at least have a pint," Ron said, smirking at her with his small attempt at a joke. She wanted to reprimand him for being so insensitive, but he put his hand under her chin and raised her face up to meet his eyes. He was very serious.

"I told you, I'm being ridiculous," She whispered, averting her eyes.

"Hermione…" Ron said again, slight firmness to his voice.

"Ron…why…why haven’t' you written more?" Hermione said, trying to keep her throat from closing up. "Why have you barely touched me today?"

"Blimey, Hermione. Is that what this is about?" He said his eyes wide.

"Listen, here's your chance. I know that things aren’t as exciting now. I understand that people can feel something in the heat of a stressful situation that changes in the clear light of an aftermath. I know I'm plain, I'm bossy, and I can't be that much fun to look at. If you want to make a break for it, I'll try hard not to hold it against you," Hermione said, her lips trembling. 

She expected him to nod and walk away. Or maybe hug her. Or, vehemently deny that he felt that way before getting on his knees and telling her he worshipped her. The last one was unlikely, but she waited for it all the same. What she didn't expect was for him to take her face in his hands and kiss her hard.

His lips moved over hers as he moved her toward the wall. She felt the cool rock on her back through her sweater, and her breath hitched at the sensation. When his hips pressed her body more firmly against the solid surface, she couldn't help but moan. As her mouth opened, his tongue thrust inside, sliding over hers and making her want to press her mouth harder into his. 

Suddenly he lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He shifted so his hardness pressed against her center through her jeans and as she moaned, she could hear him groaning in the back of his throat. Her hips moved over him and her hands were frenzied against the spun wool of his jumper. He tightened his hold on her and his mouth moved down to her neck. His free hand came up her shirt and ran across her bare skin with desperate movements. She couldn't help but throw her head back and cry out when his large hand covered her breast.

His hand left her and reached for something. The next thing she knew, he was pulling her away from the wall and pushing her into an unused classroom. Ron sat her down carefully on the desk and finally pulled back to look at her. He looked amazing; his hair was standing up in all directions, his face red, and his eyes hungry. She was still trying to catch her breath when his mouth was on her neck and his hands were under her shirt. 

He drew his wand again, and the desk became very soft, expanding and covering itself in what had to be a velvet coverlet. Hermione looked up at Ron with her eyes wide, but he just continued kissing her and toying with her nipples. The sensation became too much, and she reached up under his jumper and undershirt, needing to feel his skin as badly as she had ever needed anything.

The melodic moan he uttered when she ran her fingers up his spine was accompanied by his hips thrusting against her clothed center once again. When he moved her shirt up, she helped him remove it completely, and move them into as yet unvisited territory. He looked down and her and swiftly undid her bra (something he was familiar with), before laying her back and pinning her hands above her head. She didn't even have the chance to be self conscious or protest, because his hands were holding her wrists, but his mouth was occupied with her breasts.

She melted against him, the desire throbbing through her. She needed him inside of her, but the fear of that thought kept her from just begging him. She wasn't sure she was ready for that. Not 10 minutes ago, she was convinced he would leave her for not being good enough. That, obviously, wasn't the case. "Ron always was a man of action," Hermione thought pleasantly as his teeth grazed her nipple and her whole body arched up. 

Soon, it became clear that she needed more than his clothed thrusts against her and his mouth on her. 

"Ron…I need…" Hermione said, struggling to get her wrists out of his grip. He pulled back and looked at her quizzically, his eyes still half closed and his tongue darting out of his mouth.

Hermione sat up and pulled his sweater off of him, pressing her body against his. She breathed in deeply at the incredible feeling of her skin against his warm body and she tucked her face into his neck. She sat there, breathing against him as his hands drew up and down her bare back. She dug her nails lightly into his skin and he pulled back. 

"Hermione, you need to understand something. I will always want you, forever. I will always love you, forever. Don't ever doubt that again and I will try as fucking hard as possible to make sure you never have a reason to doubt me," Ron said, holding her more tightly and brushing his lips against hers. 

When their kissing escalated again, he leaned her back against the charmed desk and began to kiss back down toward her breasts. She arched her back, inviting his mouth against her sensitive skin, but his lips kept going until they reached the waist of her jeans. She could feel her stomach trembling and her nerves threatening to eat her alive, but she wanted him so bad. She needed him to touch her. He's pressed his fingers inside of her a few times before, and even brought her to completion, and she needed to feel him connected to her in this moment. Her hips thrust up in invitation. 

She shivered as he pulled her jeans over her hips. When the cold air hit her skin, she sat up, slightly shocked. He'd never removed her underwear before, and she was fearful of being so exposed in front of him. His words moments ago echoed in her head, and she tried to swallow any fear or doubt. He looked up at her in a question as he slipped off her shoes and she became completely naked. 

With her thighs tensing and her hands shaking, she opened her legs as he stared intently at her. She was ready, she trusted him, and he needed to know that. She closed her eyes tightly to try to fend off the nervousness as her whole body wanted to curl in on itself. She opened her eyes when she felt his hands brush up and down her legs. He kneeled between her, his body moving closer to the desk as he kissed down her body. When he put one of her legs over his shoulder, she gasped, suddenly realized what he was doing.

His tongue brushed against her folds and she cried out, her hips completely lifted off of the desk until he put a hand on her to keep her down. He groaned and licked her again, his tongue dancing around her clit as two of his fingers entered her. She gripped his hair tightly, trying hard not to thrust against his lips. He kept his hand locked on her hip so she could writhe the way she wanted to.

Before she knew it, the climax was flowing down her body. She was moaning and cursing more than she was likely to ever admit when she came out of this. When he put a third finger inside of her she came, clenching down hard against his hand and crying out his name. She lay there as her body trembled and the waves began to subside. 

When Ron hovered back on top of her, she smiled to feel he had shed his clothing at some point. She reached down and wrapped her hand around his long, thick cock. As her body trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and her hand went up and down his shaft, she wanted nothing more than to be filled by him. The thought excited her and scared her to the point where she almost wanted to cry again. He kissed her slowly, the taste of herself still on his lips, and her tongue danced languidly over his as she tried to regain control over her nerves. 

"'Mione, you have to stop or I'm going to…" Ron started, whispering in her ear as he thrust against her hand.

"Ron…I want…Please…"She said breathlessly, trying to find the right words. He leaned up and looked at her intently, trying to divine her meaning. "Inside of me, Ron."

Ron coughed, but his lips met hers in the next instant. He parted her thighs with his hands, and she was spread wide open for him. He settled between her legs and she felt the head of his cock move between her fold. She fought hard to keep from thrusting up to him, knowing that it would hurt if she was too overzealous. 

"Hermione…" Ron whispered, and she met his eyes. 

He entered her slowly, whimpering and groaning as he did so. She could feel herself stretching and adjusting to him, and when he moved a few more inches, she felt the stinging burn. She gripped his arms tightly and closed her eyes, trying to keep her body relaxed. She opened her eyes when she realized he had stopped moving and was kissing up and down her face. His entire body was shaking.

"Tell me when it's okay," he said, in an unsteady voice, before burying his face in her hair. 

"Ron," She said. She met his deep blue eyes and nodded, flinching slightly as he entered her fully. He was moving painfully slow, but that suited her just fine, and when her body adjusted, she met his movements with her own.

"Fuck!" He groaned, pumping back into her. He pumped in and out, and after a surprisingly small amount of time, he was coming, whispering her name in between groans. 

They lay on the cushioned desk, catching their breath in the afternoon light. She held his hands tightly between her breasts, feeling his heart pounding against her back. She took a shaking breath and brought his fingers to her lips.

"You okay?" He asked in a gruff voice, his fingers intertwining with hers.

"The nightmares…they…I dream of all the times I almost lost you, only in my dreams, you're gone," She said, her voice choking. He rolled her on her back to look up at him.

"I'm not going anywhere…It's you and me, Hermione," Ron said, resting his finger against the warm little jewel of her necklace. 

He brought his lips down softly against hers, and she believed it. She always believed him.

 


End file.
